


All of Your Spare Parts

by Crucified_To_A_Star



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Absent Parents, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Androids, Angst with a Happy Ending, Falling In Love, First Kiss, First Love, Fluff and Angst, Gardens & Gardening, Inspired by Music, Light Angst, M/M, Science Fiction, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Slow Burn, Unspecified Setting, earth died, garden of eden theme, heavy topic of morals, inspired by superhuman, question on morality: how ethical is creating humanlife with no autonomy, will update the tags with the second chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:34:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25395451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crucified_To_A_Star/pseuds/Crucified_To_A_Star
Summary: "Mark is an android, dear. He can’t feel those kinds of emotions.”
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Comments: 7
Kudos: 51





	All of Your Spare Parts

**Author's Note:**

> Hello~ 
> 
> I've had the line "Mark is an android, dear. He can’t feel those kinds of emotions.” sitting in my prompt document for MONTHS and the idea finally hit me what to do with it. There will be a sequel to this story based around DoJae that goes more in depth about the world and how it functions in its current state considering this fic talks mostly about how it got there and also about the corporation that creates the types of androids that Mark is. 
> 
> To make a quick clarification:  
> Earth: practically dead, only the lowest, poorest class live there and the earth is basically just exploited for minor resources that can't be fabricated.  
> First moon: Industrial, all manufacturing.  
> Second moon: suburbs, universities, middle class citizens and business.  
> Third moon: The elite, the wealthy, the ones who own mines on earth, businesses, or manufacturing plants. 
> 
> That being said: Please enjoy!<3

Donghyuck was lucky, he supposed. Life on the third moon was supposed to be the easiest in their planet rotation. The third moon was reserved for the wealthy, the upper-class of what remained of humanity. Their moon was shrouded in an artificial atmosphere, one made with imported plants and the faux remnants of what life on earth had been like at some point in history. Donghyuck had grown up knowing this, reading about it in the textbooks his middle-aged education tutor had brought. Donghyuck had read it on the interweb, looked at story after story of what life had been like at some point in history, entirely untouchable to him now. Donghyuck had read about when the earth had _one_ moon, desolate and uninhabitable, a plain splatter of grey rock in an endless void. 

Donghyuck had read a lot. 

Donghyuck had an infinite amount of time to read, sitting silently in the mansion his parents had built, from the unnaturally perfect soil, up. His parents had bought the imported plot of dirt and built an empire in the sky, one far away from the poverty of earth and the tragedy of the first moon. The mansion was made of fine marble surrounded by an immaculate garden that stretched so far Donghyuck had never seen his neighbors in any direction. Donghyuck knew, realistically, that there were no neighbors- at least, not for a distance he thought he couldn’t walk. The third moon was plotted out for space, for extreme comfort. Donghyuck couldn’t see his neighbors because his neighbors simply didn’t exist. 

This, however, meant that growing up Donghyuck had had limited physical experience with people his age, most in person interactions having been with tutors and maids and nannies and whatever business partners his parents brought home. Donghyuck’s interactions with people his age consisted of almost entirely online and gaming rooms.

But, Donghyuck was lucky. 

For Donghyuck’s fifteenth birthday, his parents bought him an android. 

Donghyuck had read about these androids. They were created on the first moon, the industrial population, with imported natural supplies from Earth’s mine, a rarity. These androids weren’t like the others -all metal and plastic and sleek white and black faces. These androids were practically _human_. They lacked emotions and conscience, but their appearance was humanlike and they spoke like humans and they were the perfect match for a lonely child growing up in a garden on a moon. 

At least, Donghyuck’s parents thought so. 

Donghyuck wasn’t as thrilled with the purchase, staring at the robot in the glass container dropped in the foyer with a look crossed between dread and distaste. The tube was far taller than Donghyuck and on treads meant for all surfaces and terrains. Inside of the perfectly clear glass, was the motionless form of the android. The inside of the tube was metallic and glass, panels on the cap with what looked to be battery compartments and bluetooth charging. On the outside was nothing besides the brand name- _Neo Tech Androids_ \- in small but bulky print, a handle to the door, and a small set of LED lights that were currently non-functional. It wasn’t appealing to look at, the design not as sleek as Donghyuck would have expected from a company that sold their androids for a price he could assume was worth more than several earth-dwellers. That thought alone made Donghyuck sick. There was a resentment in his tone when he spoke, one aimed at the robot, at the history behind it, and at his parents for filling his life with nothing but inanimate objects. “Why would I want _that_?”

“It’s a friend for you, Donghyuck.” Donghyuck’s mother sounded tired- not from work, but from her son. She didn’t spend much time with him. She spoke like she was trying to be positive, trying to be enthusiastic, trying to be a mother. She fell short, though, tone falling somewhere in between uninterested and burdened. “Something to keep you entertained.”

“I’m plenty entertained in the garden.” Donghyuck replied, though it was a half truth. Donghyuck just didn’t want to be followed around by something that wasn’t quite human but did its best to be. Donghyuck didn’t want to be followed around by something that he could at least excuse for not caring about him, knowing the robot couldn’t feel human emotions. 

Donghyuck’s mother sighed and he looked up to her, eyes trailing the expensive pant suit she wore as he did. She looked a lot like him, he thought. She had the same round face, pouty features, and almond shaped black eyes. She was where he got his silver hair and moles. She was where he got his height and lithe shape. The only things he inherited from his father was the glowing sun-kissed color of his skin and curls lacing his hair. He took after her, though he prayed not in personality. He wasn’t sure where his personality came from, but he presumed it was created from the online forums he found a social life in, mixed with all of the old books and news articles he read. He didn’t know his grandparents and he certainly was nothing like the parents he did know. “I don’t know, Donghyuck. But it’s here and it’s yours.” 

_It_. For some reason that bothered Donghyuck. In reality, he knew that the android in front of him wasn’t a person and would find no offense in that term, but staring at the seemingly sleeping face of the automaton, he felt a peculiar pull in his heart. 

_He_ Donghyuck thought bitterly, _Not it_.

Donghyuck had been left to figure out how the android worked on his own. His mother had simply left him with the glass tube and instructions and disappeared to wherever she went during the day. Donghyuck didn’t know much about androids, but he also didn’t know much about his parents. He figured only one was worth his time discovering.

The instructions were fairly clear, with diagrams and simple words. Donghyuck thought they were _too_ simple, but then again he was reminded that not everyone of the upper class could read well- most bought servants or hired assistants to read for them, the action deemed pointless and below them. Donghyuck was lucky to have grown up with a tutor who found value in the written word. 

Within the next few hours, Donghyuck had dragged the glass tube out into the garden where the sun was beginning to reach and had left the android to charge in his pod as he lounged near it. Donghyuck would have to find a permanent spot to put the tube as the android would need to charge every 72-hours. The tube was solar powered and the android was wireless, standard technology of the modern era. 

Everything about the android seemed standard, Donghyuck thought as he was laying in the grass, watching the tube's battery light flashing green. The only advanced thing about him was the silicon skin covering every visible expanse of skin and a humanlike face. He was dressed in a simple silver outfit, one that gave no indication towards whether or not the skin continued beneath his clothing. Donghyuck wasn’t sure whether he preferred the idea of him entirely covered or exposed planes of metal to remind him that this robot's humanity was a conjuring of his mind. 

While the sun continued to feed the battery of both the tube and Donghyuck’s motivation, he had a recollection of an article he had read several years ago. It was conducted by a university on the second moon, one about humanity's desire to imprint on things. It had said something about the fact that humans have such a strong empathy hardwired into their minds, that when something is remotely lifelike, it’s an automatic and unconscious response to treat it as though it _is_ alive. 

Donghyuck wasn’t sure what he thought about that study. He’d met plenty of people that didn’t treat him as though he were living, despite the fact that he was entirely human. Donghyuck had also met plenty of people online who had treated the game AI’s as nothing but a good joke. Donghyuck wasn’t even entirely sure that every person alive had empathy for every _human_. 

Still, the article made some valid points and had made a lasting impression. Now, staring at the sleeping form of the android in front of him, he could understand the research.

There was a tugging in his chest, something foreign, something almost anxious, as he looked at him. It was an entirely new feeling, one Donghyuck could never recall having felt previously. It was heavy and made his palms clammy and his skin itchy. It felt like the time he had found a snail in the garden, sliding up one blade of grass, unbothered, uninterested in anything other than the grass. He hadn’t known what a snail was before that day, hadn’t ever _seen_ one. It was entirely unknown, entirely new. Donghyuck felt a similar way now, except the feeling was stronger and collected in the base of his throat.

Donghyuck was drawn from his thoughts when the tube beeped, the green light no longer flashing, but a solid color. _Charging complete_. Donghyuck sprung from the ground as though propelled by jet-skates and rushed to look into the clear container, excited despite his initial disinterest. The android, though, was still asleep, eyes closed and face lax. Confusion knitted Donghyuck’s expression, a frown dragging his features down. The instructions had said the android would wake up once the charging was complete and the charging was complete once the green light stopped flashing. Donghyuck gripped the external handle of the tube, sliding it open with a dull hiss, watching the ever-unchanging expression on the robot's face. 

“Hello?” Donghyuck asked, voice soft, unsure in a way he often wasn’t. There was a strange sterile smell that mixed with the scent of wet grass and sunlight in a way that confused Donghyuck’s senses. “Mr. Android?”

When there was no reply, Donghyuck reached out and pressed a finger into the chest of the android. The body there was soft, finger pressing into what felt like flesh. Donghyuck reeled back, surprise shooting through his nerves as though he had stuck his finger against an exposed wire. For some reason, he hadn’t expected the body to feel so organic. When he steeled himself again, he glanced up through his eyelashes, the android taller than he when standing inside of the tube, only to find the android staring back at him. 

“Oh,” Donghyuck said dumbly, stepping back, numbed by the suddenness of the android's consciousness despite it being expected, “Hello.”

The android paused momentarily, unresponsive, placid. Donghyuck’s fingers played with the hem of his tee shirt, knotting in the simple fabric over and over until it was irreversibly wrinkled, as he felt unusually nervous. It was almost a full minute before the android stepped from the tube, shifting on certain legs. For some reason Donghyuck had expected to hear a whirring noise, something squeaky, something metallic, but there was none. It sounded like a person moving, horribly natural in all of its unnaturalness. Donghyuck felt a shiver creep up his arms and steal the heat from his body. 

“Hello,” The android said finally, voice deep and smooth, yet lacking the distinct tonelessness of the faceless androids that had no mouth, “I am Android MRK-V8299. How may I assist you today?”

The robot was handsome, Donghyuck thought, for a robot. His cheeks were hollow and high, eyes wide and round and almost unnaturally glittery- Donghyuck paused, rethinking; they glittered unnaturally because they _are_ unnatural. Everything about this android was designed in a lab with the utmost attention to detail, created specifically for the interest of aesthetics. “What’s that mean?” Donghyuck asked, curiosity overtaking the discomfort of staring at an entirely non-human human. 

The android blinked several times, the two having fallen into a world that consisted only of them as time passed, before replying, “Please clarify.”

“What did you introduce yourself as? What’s that mean? All those numbers?” Donghyuck hadn’t caught the pattern and was unsure on how to clarify further. He was beginning to realize that the navigation of living with an android was going to be rocky terrain initially. He hadn’t stopped to think that there was a learning curve with them, both for human and robot alike. Donghyuck had just expected the robot to come fully programmed, but the more he thought, the more he understood this robot was supposed to be catered to _him_ , so there was no way for the manufacturers to program him perfectly. 

“Oh,” The android said, with a surprisingly human emotion behind the simple expression, “I am Android MRK-V8299. That is my identification until you reset it.” 

Donghyuck’s mouth was slightly limp, eyeing the android. There was something odd about seeing an android react with entirely human body language meanwhile spouting off a list of numbers as a name. “What’s the M-letters-and-numbers mean?” 

“That is my identification until you reset it,” The android repeated, tone informative and simple, “It is an acronym and serial number. Model: Realistic Kind, Version 8299.” 

“Neo Tech isn’t super creative with their titles, huh?” Donghyuck jabbed, stepping back some as the android fully exited the tube. Standing on the grass, he was slightly shorter than Donghyuck, but far more broad. The android's hair was a dirty blonde, ruffled casually and hanging against his forehead. 

“I don’t understand,” He replied, head tilting just slightly in a way that reminded Donghyuck of the kittens he’d watched online, “Identification creativity is the duty of the consumer.”

“It was a joke,” Donghyuck responded, voice flat as he stared at the android. The robot tilted his head a little further and squinted as though he were studying Donghyuck. “When I say things like that you’re supposed to laugh.” 

“Oh,” The android repeated, once again with an uncanny humanlike intone, “My apologies. I am programmed with only a set amount of pre-approved reactions, phrases, and emotions. I need you to teach me appropriate responses to the things you say.”

Donghyuck shrugged, the android confirming his assumptions. Still, figuring out how to teach a grown-looking robot how to act like a human Donghyuck could befriend was a abnormal task to think about and made Donghyuck slightly uneasy. “When I make jokes, you’re supposed to laugh. I don’t really know what else there is.” 

“Please give me an example of one of your jokes so I can input the data into my algorithm.” The android was staring at him with a look that felt far too personable for Donghyuck’s liking, as though he were genuinely curious rather than having asked for Donghyuck to help him upgrade his algorithms.

Despite the unease, the android seemed harmless, so he didn’t see a problem with entertaining the hunk of metal and artificial flesh for a bit. “I don’t have any jokes offhand.”

“Haha,” The robots laugh was stiff, synthetic, a reminder that he was internally metal and clockwork.

“No, no, that wasn’t a joke.” Donghyuck chewed on his lip, squinting, as the android’s head tilted in confusion once again.

“I asked for an example, though.” The android was seeming to have a hard time processing. Donghyuck immediately felt sympathy panging in his chest, realizing he should’ve paid more attention to what the robot had requested. He felt an unwelcomed guilt nipping at his throat for confusing the poor android. 

“I’m sorry,” Donghyuck said quickly, fingers fiddling with his wrinkled shirt hem again, “When I think of a joke, I’ll tell you.” The android nodded, ceding to that promise, smiling softly. “Anyways, what should I call you?” 

“Whatever you would like to call me.” Donghyuck knew if he were talking to a person that by now they would want to bite his head off for the repeated question. Instead of being frustrated, the android just seemed as though he expected such responses, unbothered by the circular conversation they were having. 

“Uh,” Donghyuck paused for a long time before nervously asking, “What was your identification again?” 

“MRK-V8299.” The android didn’t sound annoyed at having to repeat itself and Donghyuck felt himself relax from the lack of bite in his tone. This was a robot created to serve him, with no human emotions and only programmed responses that he was creating on his own now. There was nothing to be worried about, Donghyuck tried to convince himself. Donghyuck hadn’t ever talked to someone in person without a fear of being a nuisance or an annoyance, so the experience was entirely uncharted.

“It kind of sounds like Mark, so I think Mark works. You can take my last name if you’d like to have it, too.” Donghyuck offered the last half, thinking about the unease of half of an identity. He was certain the android would have no issues living with only the name _Mark_ , was certain the android probably wouldn’t mind living as a serial number for the rest of its battery life, but it was uncomfortable for Donghyuck. That thought hit him in the chest, the realization that the emotions he was perceiving from Mark was all projections. The android couldn’t feel emotions, couldn’t feel anything human. He was metal and carbon and silicon. He wasn’t organic.

“Your last name?” The android paused, analyzing Donghyuck for a long moment while the other was lost in his own mind, “Oh, Donghyuck Lee.”

Donghyuck trudged out of his thoughts at the acknowledgement of his name, pouting as he crossed his arms, feeling conspicuously bare. “How’d you know that?” 

“Your personnel file. I can read your cyber-kinetic implant chip. Everyone’s identification is accessible to all AI so we don’t have to go through the introduction process. Many people don’t like speaking to androids, so we are manufactured to be able to assess all people and situations without having to ask questions, if that’s what the consumer demands. We are created to serve.” The android paused as Donghyuck was processing. _Created to serve_. That left an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of Donghyuck’s stomach.

“Well, I like you talking to me, so, don’t not ask me things.” Donghyuck wasn’t sure if that made sense, but he supposed the robot would question him if not. Most of this was him guessing on how to properly interact with the android, but there was the distant comfort that this robot was programmed to adapt to _him_ and that he could technically do no wrong. Still, something in Donghyuck wanted to meld to the android’s comforts as well. Perhaps that study hadn’t been entirely wrong. 

“Understood and recorded. I will interact with you regularly.” He confirmed, smiling brightly. Donghyuck’s heart held an abnormal rhythm for a moment, cheeks warming in the slightest. It was strange seeing such a soft expression on something inhuman. 

“Okay, Mark. Update your information now! I don’t want to call you a keyboard smash for the rest of our time together.” Donghyuck wasn’t looking at him anymore, eyes looking just past his shoulder to the maze behind the tube. Donghyuck didn’t know why he was suddenly shy of the inanimate object, but it was mildly concerning. 

With a smile that Donghyuck _heard_ rather than _saw_ , he android spoke again, “Identification updated. Hello, I am Mark Lee, how can I help you today?” 

Initially, Donghyuck wasn’t sure how to feel about his robotic shadow. At first, it was overwhelming having someone lingering over his shoulder consistently after having lived fifteen years practically isolated save for business. The feeling of someone always being _there_ was something he hadn’t expected despite knowing that that was the androids entire purpose. Donghyuck was used to being set free on a tether in the yard to entertain himself like a dog, so it felt bizarre to suddenly have someone doting on him.

Slowly, though, Mark was growing on him. 

The android was awkward occasionally, laughing at inappropriate times or remaining silent in lieu of his throaty laugh, as his algorithm attempted to pick up on the subtleties of human language. Specifically, the subtleties of Donghyuck’s language, which was far different than what Donghyuck assumed other humans to be like. When Donghyuck was feeling overwhelmed he usually sent the android away to do chores or run errands; Once he even ordered the android to create a map of the hedge maze in the garden that Donghyuck could never find the grit to enter. Mark always obliged, disappearing until he returned in perfect timing, something Donghyuck was unsure of how he plotted. 

When he asked Mark about how he just _knew_ when to return, the android had replied simply _I read it online_. Donghyuck wasn’t sure _what_ he had read or _how_ it factored into his need for space, but he figured questioning the android’s skills wasn’t always necessary. Sometimes he found it easier just to trust the robot.

Mark had quite literally become Donghyuck’s shadow, following on his tail but always quiet until it was appropriate. Donghyuck found after a month or so that the silent company wasn’t unwelcome, possibly even enjoyable. He found he was liking being able to turn his head and mutter every thought that crossed his mind, from the silly ones to the unanswered questions. Mark occasionally tried to fill in the blanks, but Donghyuck usually told him not to. 

One time that stood out to Donghyuck was the time a month or so after his arrival, where he had explained human curiosity to the android. Donghyuck had asked a rhetorical question, one entirely unimportant that led to a far more important conversation. 

When Donghyuck had stopped Mark from answering the android replied, “I am here to answer the unanswered questions you have, though.”

“Some questions,” Donghyuck had said, staring at the sky full of stars, light pollution nonexistent on the third moon, “Don’t need answering, Mark.”

“Oh, I see,” Mark had picked up the term as one to use when he was processing, a filler sentence of sorts. It was an oddly humanistic trait that made Donghyuck’s chest swell with something akin to pride and nervousness that made his knees slightly weaker and body warm, “As I am sorting through my data, I am reminded that part of the human experience is curiosity.”

“Curiosity isn’t just a human thing.” Donghyuck corrected, still staring at the stars. There were just _so many stars_. How could such an empty space be so _full_?

“No?” Mark had slowly become better at articulating his emotions through his tone, something that was fascinating to Donghyuck. 

“No,” Donghyuck insisted, raising a hand to trace the constellations with his fingertips. Vaguely, he thought he could feel the braille of the universe underneath the pads of his fingers despite everything being far too distant for him to reach. “Animals get curious, too. Being curious is a part of being alive.”

“Oh, I see,” Despite Donghyuck not looking at him, he knew the android was staring at him, “I will update my data.”

Donghyuck found that he quite liked teaching Mark about living and he wondered if Mark liked it as well. Mark had often reminded him that he didn’t experience things such as joy or curiosity. Donghyuck didn’t quite believe him. 

“If you’re not curious, then why do you ask me to give you more information?” Donghyuck had asked this four months after Mark’s initial arrival, the two seated in Donghyuck’s blue themed room. Donghyuck’s favorite color wasn’t blue, but for some reason his parents had insisted on the theme. Something about sophistication and calmness and masculinity. Donghyuck liked yellow, a happy color, a warm color. Blue felt far too sad, but he supposed there wasn’t much to be happy about. 

“Because I am here to serve. If I lack the proper information, I cannot serve properly because I will be functioning without required information.” Mark was seated on the swirl patterned rug on the hardwood floor, cross legged and leaning back on his hands. It would be such a natural sight if it wasn’t for the fact that he had been seated like that for a few hours. Donghyuck had supposed it was because he didn’t feel things like discomfort, his body able to stay contorted for days without problem. Donghyuck almost envied that. 

“But that’s curiosity!” Donghyuck insisted, voice shrill as he grinned down at the android from his high bed, “Curiosity is wanting to know more, no matter what the purpose is.”

“But I cannot feel emotions such as curiosity.” Mark was adamant and Mark was right, but Donghyuck liked the banter, liked pushing. 

“You ask me questions, that’s curiosity.” Donghyuck wasn’t one to quit an argument, but neither was Mark. The two were stubborn for very different reasons, one enjoying the debate and the other unable to deny facts. Donghyuck had found that he was very much enjoying Mark’s presence nowadays.

“You said curiosity is a part of the experience of living.” Mark’s voice was uncommonlyly quiet when he had said that, his eyes downcast to the bed frame rather than Donghyuck’s face. 

“I did.” Donghyuck’s tone dropped as well, unsure of where this conversation was leading anymore. 

“I am not living.” It was almost sorrowful, those words. Donghyuck was sure that the android felt nothing as he said it, but Donghyuck’s chest twisted into a gnarly briar patch as the words settled deep in his ribcage. 

When Donghyuck spoke, it was around his heart in his throat, voice croaky, “Are you sure about that, Mark?”

There was a pause, a silence full of nothing but the color blue, before Mark spoke again. “I do not know how to respond to this comment. My algorithms have not formulated a proper response based off of previous conversations.”

Donghyuck was finding that he very much enjoyed Mark’s presence. The sweetest moment shared between the two was when Mark had given Donghyuck his nickname five months after his arrival. Donghyuck had been ranting about his name to Mark on a day where the sun was bright and the artificial atmosphere was humid and everything smelled like dying roses and drying grass. There wasn’t much going on, but there rarely ever was, both on the third moon and in Donghyuck’s life.

“Donghyuck is just so ugly and formal.” He whined, arm covering his eyes as the two were lounging in the grass. The two often just sat in the grass together, the mansion looming over them like a crypt that both entered only when necessary. Donghyuck spent a lot of time talking, not necessarily always complaining, but vocalizing his thoughts for the first time in his life. It was nice to finally be heard, he thought.

“What would you have me call you?” Mark finally asked, the question hanging in the damp air along with the butterflies and bugs. 

Donghyuck withdrew his arm, glancing at the android, an unknown emotion circling his wrists as they trembled nervously. What a strange place to feel a reaction to emotions, he thought distantly, but he presumed it was the pulse points that carried the feeling of _whatever_ was hitting his system. “What do you mean?” 

“Well,” Mark said casually, looking at Donghyuck momentarily before looking back to the sky. Mark had become increasingly humanlike as he had adapted to Donghyuck’s speech patterns and found the best personality to match. There were many days where Donghyuck had to remind himself that he wasn’t _real_ , at least not in the way he wanted him to be. “If you hate Donghyuck so much, what else should I refer to you as?” 

Donghyuck paused, throat tight and he wondered if dehydration was setting in. Perhaps the two needed to go back into the mansion after all. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought about that. Usually other people give people nicknames.” 

“Has anyone given you a nickname before?” Mark’s tone had been conversational in a way that it often was. 

“No.” Donghyuck swallowed thickly, the sand in his throat scarring the entire way down, “Before you, I didn’t have any friends my age in real life.”

“Oh, I see.” Mark was still staring at the sky, but Donghyuck couldn’t drag his eyes away from the profile of the android. It was then that Mark’s head rolled to the side, eyes meeting Donghyuck’s gaze steadily, a small smile pulling his lips in such a gentle way it made the unsteady feeling return to Donghyuck’s wrists and knees. “Donghyuck, would you like me to give you a nickname?”

“If you want.” He managed as a reply, turning his head away and covering his face with the crook of his elbow once again. 

The silence they sat in was warmed by the sun and slowly, with the peace, Donghyuck’s body settled back into its resting state. It was a long while that the two had sat like that, neither speaking. When Donghyuck would peek over at Mark, it seemed as though the other was searching through something in his mind and he decided to leave the android unbothered. “Donghyuck, I think I found the perfect nickname for you.”

“Oh?” He replied, cautiously for an unknown reason, nerves short-circuiting, “What is it?”

“Haechan.” Mark said simply. When Donghyuck looked at Mark, he was once again looking at him, smiling sweetly. 

“Haechan?” He had asked, eyebrows knitting. The name sounded distant, slightly foreign on his tongue.

“Yes, Haechan.” Mark’s smile hadn’t let up and Donghyuck was hyper aware of the sun’s warmth on his skin, “It’s an old word from an old language. It used to be spoken on earth. The characters mean Full-Sun.”

“Full-Sun?” Donghyuck repeated, tasting the word and the meaning behind it. 

“Yes, Full-Sun.” Mark seemed almost proud of his discovery, preening under the sunlight. Donghyuck wondered if robots could _preen_ , wondered if they seeked validation similar to humans. Androids were created to serve, so was there something in their programming that gave them satisfaction when a job was complete or was it simply an endless void of nothing? Donghyuck wasn’t sure he wanted the answer to that question, both seeming equally frightening for completely different reasons.

“And that fits me how?” He asked instead, eyebrow cocking under the weight of his arm, face entirely squished into a pout. Donghyuck wasn’t afraid of looking unattractive, especially not in front of a robot created to be his unconditional friend. 

“You are objectively bright and energetic, similar to solar power.” Mark hadn’t paused for that answer, hadn’t stuttered, hadn’t blinked. There was no hesitation, none that a human would show, yet his expression was entirely open and honest. 

Donghyuck’s breath caught in his throat, his tongue suddenly far too thick to move to form a coherent thought. He blinked several times before swallowing what he could of the molasses thick feeling in his mouth, speaking only when he was certain his voice wouldn’t shake, “I guess that’s good. I was hoping you’d say something cheesy like _my world revolves around you_.”

Mark’s smile melted into something that tasted slightly sad, but once again Donghyuck reminded himself that he was projecting his interpretation of emotions onto the android. The android had no emotions. He wasn’t human. Donghyuck, however, was human and Mark affected him more than the sun, “Well, my world _does_ revolve around you. You’re the only reason I exist.”

The worst time knowing Mark was seven months after he had gotten the android and he brought up the possibility of the android having feelings to his mother.

Donghyuck’s family only ate dinner together a few times a week, though the dining room was often empty of any sound besides that of utensils moving and quiet requests for the servants to fetch something. Conversation wasn’t common, none of the three interested in any of the others enough to start something just for the sake of politeness. Donghyuck usually didn’t mind. He wasn’t sure how the conversation had started tonight at dinner where his father was absent despite his presence at the table. How they had gotten onto the topic of Mark, Donghyuck wasn’t sure either. He thought maybe his mother had asked how it was working out, less interested in her son's happiness and more about the investment she made. Donghyuck also wasn’t sure how he had slipped up and made the offhanded comment about thinking the android had feelings. He had grown too used to being able to freely speak to Mark, his thoughts unfiltered to the android in a way they could never be with his parents. 

“Mom, he’s curious, all of the time.” Donghyuck insisted from his seat at the rectangular table. The space between them wasn’t large, yet it felt as though they might as well have been in different rooms, speaking through walls. 

“He’s an android, Donghyuck, he’s collecting data.” His mother was dismissive, eating a green bean with a bored expression. She was dressed in fine clothing as usual, peals decorating her ears and chest. His father hadn’t looked up from his plate, probably watching a moving on his ocular implants. Donghyuck wasn’t certain the last time his father had looked at him. He didn’t think he minded it, not really wanting to interact with the man anyways. Business moguls that lived on the third moon all acted the same, Donghyuck thought, distant and two plastic smiles away from having no personality.

“No, mom, he’s interested in things! He likes to learn about life and is always asking questions and he seems to really like the answers.” Donghyuck wasn’t sure why he was defending Mark to his parents like this, wasn’t sure why he was so incessant on his mother accepting it. It wasn’t true, Donghyuck knew; androids couldn’t feel emotions because they weren’t human. Maybe Donghyuck wanted that to be _not_ true. Maybe he wanted his mother to accept Mark’s emotions because he could see the blankness of her eyes. Maybe he wanted Mark to have emotions because how could an object express more care for him than his mother?

“Mark is an android, dear. He can’t feel those kinds of emotions.” Her tone was final as she ate another bite of vegetables. His father still hadn’t looked up, plate half untouched.

_When was the last time you felt love?  
Excitement? Curiosity? When was the last time you felt anything at all?_ Donghyuck had wanted to ask, the words on the very tip of his tongue, tasting like molten silver. He swallowed them, though, the words burning the entire way down his throat. Instead he said, “I guess.” 

One of the more memorable days was a month after Donghyuck turned sixteen, the pair sitting by the fountain in the center of the labyrinth formed by thick abravidae and rose bushes. The fountain itself was simple and pretty, but slightly chipped from age and slightly algae coated from a lack of upkeep and disinterest. Both the nature and the fountain were artificial and imported, but Donghyuck thought that the serenity was naturally occurring.

Mark was lounging on the lip of the fountain, hand swirling in the softly moving water. There was a cherry blossom tree here, one that was in bloom year round. Donghyuck had never seen it before he had traversed the maze with Mark. It was hidden amongst the acres of hedges, completely forgotten about. There were several areas like this hidden in the maze; trees and flowers that never wilted surrounding places to lay and sit and enjoy what little piece of constructed life was there. Donghyuck quite enjoyed the fountain and it seemed as though Mark did too. 

As Donghyuck watched the way his hand was submerged in the water, swishing back and forth with languid sounds, he couldn’t help but think back to the articles he had read about a time where waterproof machinery didn’t exist. It was more odd nowadays thinking of Mark as machinery, considering he had formed an entire personality, one far more complex than Donghyuck had seen in anyone else. Mark felt unrealistic in a way that Donghyuck wasn’t prepared to address, unsure of even _how_ to address it.

“Hey, Haechan?” Mark’s voice wasn’t dampened by him laying on his chest as Donghyuck’s would have been. Mark didn’t breathe to speak, at least not with lungs; a fan sucking air into mechanical parts that created vibrations and echoed through the speakers of his mouth. Mark’s chest only rose and fell for Donghyuck’s comfort. 

“Hey, Mark?” Donghyuck replied teasingly from where he was seated on the grass, leaning against the fountain. Donghyuck was dressed in shorts today, ones that showed the shape of his thighs and peeked out from the bottom of his oversized tee shirt. Donghyuck didn’t worry about how he dressed around Mark- the android had no interest in him, wasn’t _capable_ of having any interest in him. After that realization, Donghyuck had gotten perhaps too comfortable with the android; dressing and undressing in front of him; stripping in broad daylight and jumping into the hidden, man-made lake they had found in the maze. Donghyuck had lost all sense of shame around the robot after that realization, having unconsciously censored himself after the androids arrival. The only sense of freedom Donghyuck had had before the androids arrival was his bodily autonomy and it was abberant how he hadn’t noticed the way he had willingly traded it for the company of another person. 

Mark wasn’t another person, though, and once Donghyuck had become comfortable with that, there truly wasn’t anything stopping him from existing entirely as himself around the android.

“It’s been over a year since my arrival,” Mark’s tone was apprehensive in a way Donghyuck had begun to associate with the android searching through his data files as he attempted to formulate his thoughts into words that were appropriate around Donghyuck. “Have I been satisfactory?”

“Of course,” Donghyuck said quickly, “You’ve been perfect, Mark.”

“Perfect,” Mark repeated that word twice, once out loud and once a simple movement of his lips that Donghyuck watched from the side, “That is what I was created for. Perfection.”

Months later, the two were hidden away in Donghyuck’s blue room. Slowly, Mark had been compiling yellow accents to throw around the room in decor after Donghyuck had told him he liked the color yellow. Mark had ordered things online, hand-stitched some sunflowers onto Donghyuck’s pillows, had begun painting vases and picture frames in multiple shades of yellow. It was a vaguely sweet gesture, one that Donghyuck knew was simply because the android wanted to make Donghyuck as happy as possible. It still made Donghyuck’s heart thump a little harder than normal. 

Tonight, the two sat under the light of the stars and the artificial moonlight. Donghyuck always found it funny how humans had always historically admired the moon so much that they not only created two replicas but also falsified its nightlight. Humans were so addicted to the things they were used to, they couldn’t let it go, even when they destroyed everything they loved. 

For some reason, Mark’s image accompanied that thought, though Donghyuck wasn’t sure why. Something still felt so immoral about the creation of such a humanistic android, the feeling only getting more strange the longer he lived with Mark. The feeling hung in Donghyuck’s mind, tacked up on the walls with the sticky-notes _humans crave humanity so much that they’re turning metal into people_ and _what are the morals of creating humans with no autonomy or conscience_. Donghyuck didn’t acknowledge those thoughts often, but they were always there and they always became more prevalent when he began to think too deeply on the fact that his best friend of a year and a half wasn’t a person and in fact only viewed him as a _master_.

“Hey, Mark?” Donghyuck said, crawling from his thoughts. 

“Yes, Haechan?” Mark spoke from across the room where he was seated on the chair from Donghyuck’s desk. Mark never referred to Donghyuck by his real name anymore and for some reason it made Donghyuck’s cheeks hurt with the smile he always suppressed. Mark didn’t sleep, so he spent every night sitting up, reading articles online, studying human interactions, watching movies. Sometimes he read up on pop culture so he could make references to Donghyuck, who would laugh at the always slightly outdated, slightly out of place, jokes. Donghyuck quite liked when Mark took the initiative to be relatable to Donghyuck. It was endearing. 

“I was just thinking,” Donghyuck said slowly, mind so cluttered with so many words that wanted to fall out that he was unable to pick just one thing to focus on. How he could spend all day, everyday talking to Mark and _still_ have new things to say was beyond him. “Do you mind not being able to say no to things?” 

“I don’t understand,” Mark responded after a while. Donghyuck hadn’t gotten that response in a while, the two having found a nice groove of communication and adapting to the others needs. 

“Oh, I mean,” Donghyuck paused. What _did_ he mean? Was he asking the robot its opinion on its lack of freedom? Was he asking for the robots opinions on morals? Was he asking if the android ever wanted to just _not_ listen? He wasn’t sure how to clarify it, so he sat and waited until the right words came to him. “I mean, do you ever think about autonomy?” 

Mark hummed quietly, a human reaction from an inhuman object. “I don’t think about autonomy, no.”

Donghyuck paused again. Mark’s response was so different from the norm, so different from what he expected from his algorithms. “Don’t you ever think about denying me?”

Mark laughed, unexpectedly, making Donghyuck roll onto his side to stare at the android across the room. “Haechan,” Mark said, smiling widely in the night, looking an awful lot like the antique cartoon drawings of the moon, “I was manufactured to complete every task you give me. If you say to do something, I am programmed to do so. I don’t think about denying you, because I cannot deny you, not unless you tell me to.” 

“But do you ever _want_ to tell me no?” Donghyuck wasn’t certain what answer he was digging for, but Mark, as always, didn’t look upset. 

“Haechan, I am an android. I don’t _want_ anything.” Mark’s tone was soft in the night; he had long since mastered talking to Donghyuck like this when he went off onto the tangents driven by curiosity and a fiery stubbornness. 

“You always _want_ to please me.” Donghyuck countered, scowling across the room at him. Donghyuck knew that Mark could see him clearly, his eyes not needing the same reception of light to see as Donghyuck’s did. Mark’s eyes were artificial, as was every other part of him, and seeing in the dark was fairly standard for androids, considering most androids didn’t need eyes to see _at all_. 

“That’s different,” Mark said patiently, sitting uncomfortably straight and poised as he had the entire night, “It’s not an emotional _want_. It’s a programmed response. It’s my existence.” 

“So you’re content with doing anything I ask?” The question slipped from Donghyuck’s tired mind and tongue so easily it was almost as though he hadn’t said anything at all. It’s been over a year and a half, Donghyuck thought, why was this coming up now? 

“Of course,” Mark said simply, head tilting sweetly, “I cannot refuse you.”

“What if I asked you to jump off of the roof?” Donghyuck prodded, voice higher than it should be. 

“I would,” Mark’s tone hadn’t changed, still as smooth and low as it had been previously, “It wouldn’t hurt me, either.” 

“What if I asked you to swim in the fountain?” Donghyuck prodded again, knowing this conversation wasn’t going anywhere. 

“I would,” Mark answered again, though it seemed as though the robot was amused. Donghyuck wasn’t sure where the lines of his projections and Mark’s algorithmic responses crossed sometimes. “I wouldn’t feel it and it would bring me no joy nor embarrassment, but I would do it if you asked.” 

“What if I asked you to kiss me?” His voice was softer now, more ugent as the question slipped through tired lips far too quickly for him to stop it. His mind was suddenly dull, all the fiery, unasked questions that were cluttering his judgement suddenly extinguished, leaving his mind entirely blank. 

Mark didn’t seem perturbed by the question, answering in the same tone as before, “I would do it,” there was a momentary pause where the silence was lit by artificial moonlight on an artificial moon, before he added just as softly as before, “If you wanted me to. I can’t refuse you, Haechan.” 

Seventeen was an easy year for Donghyuck and it passed by in a blur. His schooling went by quickly and he was earning his certifications in business faster than he expected. His parents had set him on the same path as they had paved, preparing him to take over his mother’s business that she ran on the second moon. Donghyuck didn’t really know what the business was, but he knew it had something to do with importing precious organic materials from earth, such as wood and dirt and water. Donghyuck wasn’t really interested in it, not when Mark was always hanging around. 

Mark didn’t age, Donghyuck noticed, not that he had expected him to. He was eternally frozen in the face of an eighteen year old, baby fat just barely melting from his cheeks. Donghyuck, however, was aging as all humans did. He grew far taller than Mark, his body filling out, his baby fat completely disappearing until he was left with a slender frame and smooth muscles. He was a dancer, a runner, picking up the hobbies with Mark as his teacher. Mark seemed to know everything due to his connection to the interweb, quickly able to find and teach any subject Donghyuck could ask about. 

By the time Donghyuck was eighteen, he had just begun to realize exactly how abnormally handsome Mark was as his mother began to syphon him photos of women, men, and non-binary folk alike for potential spouses. Donghyuck wasn’t interested in entering a loveless marriage and he certainly wasn’t interested in any of the options his mother had fed him. Every person he saw, he compared to Mark which was a strange thing, considering the android couldn’t be his spouse. 

Donghyuck found that he didn’t mind the idea of just settling down and staying single the rest of his life if it meant he kept Mark as his friendly android sidekick. 

His mother, however, did not find that idea as appealing. “You need a spouse and you need to have offspring so they can continue to be the heir to the company.” 

“I just dont _want_ a partner, mom.” Donghyuck stressed, pressing his fingers into his temple. He could feel a headache clawing it’s way through his skull and he wasn’t sure if it was the topic of their disagreement or the scent of her too strong, too floral perfume that clouded the area around them that was causing it. Either way, a pressure was building in his cranium and he was hoping for a quick exit before it became something exhausting. “Why is that so wrong?” 

“Because you’ll damn this family.” She said sternly, heels clicking on the marble floor as she paced the foyer they were standing in. She was dressed in a suit and looking at her, Donghyuck could practically see what he would look like as he got older. It was unnerving, he thought, to look so much like someone he didn’t know. “It’s because I bought you that stupid robot.”

“What?” Donghyuck asked, voice catching at the twist of conversation. 

“I bought that fucking hunk of metal as an investment into the Kim’s company and figured it’d be a thing for you to test out. I didn’t think you’d get so-so-,” She waved her hand angrily, wedding ring glinting in the dangling crystal chandelier lighting, “ _Attached_.”

“I’m not attached,” Donghyuck defended weakly, the lie tasting capricious on his tongue, “I just don’t want to get married to some random person.”

“What, do you think someone’s just going to show up and fall in love with you, Donghyuck?” The words were awfully bitter, similar to raw rhubarb. Donghyuck hated rhubarb and had removed all of it from his garden years ago and there wasn’t any wonder why. “This isn’t a fairytale. I don’t know what that hunk of junk has been telling you, but you _will_ be married.”

“Stop talking about Mark like that,” Donghyuck wasn’t sure why he was so defensive of the robot. Mark’s feelings wouldn’t be hurt if he had heard that, the robot didn’t _have_ feelings to hurt. Still, it upset Donghyuck. “It has nothing to do with him. I just don’t want to be married off.” 

“And just why not? What do you think is going to happen that’s so bad, Donghyuck?” His mother rarely spoke to him longer than a few sentences and Donghyuck couldn’t believe that _this_ was the reason they were communicating. 

“Because I don’t want to end up like _you_.” Donghyuck was staring at the image in the psychics ball, looking directly at what he would end up like in twenty years if he followed his mothers wishes. His mother looked like him, or rather, he looked like his mother. His mother looked like his grandfather. He would be a carbon copy, another iteration of the same person moving on to live the same life. Donghyuck _didn’t want that._ “I don’t want to be _you_.”

“Haechan, are you okay?” Mark asked as the two sat in silence in Donghyuck’s room before the sun even set. Mark had been sitting in the desk chair as per usual when Donghyuck had dramatically flung the door open and fallen, face first, into his bed and screamed. Mark let him vent into the fluff until he fell silent before asking. “You seem to be distressed.”

“My mom wants me to get married,” Donghyuck said, dragging his face from the pillow so it was instead smooshed sideways against the fabric, “She keeps shoving profiles at me and I guess I got tired of it. We got into a fight.”

“Oh, I see,” Mark said slowly, nodding. Today he was wearing glasses, stylish and unnecessary, but Donghyuck had shown him fashion magazines and Mark had become addicted. Suddenly, his loose tee shirts and jeans were styled more fashionably, tucked and ironed and fitted. Donghyuck tried not to notice. “That sounds like a normal part of human life, though. Getting married, I mean. Everything I see online is about marriage and heirs and the future. Isn’t that what humans strive for?” 

“No,” Donghyuck said, then groaned loudly, “ _Yes_. They all want the power and money and just everything that comes along with the marriage.” 

“And what do you want?” Mark asked, kind as ever, expression open and warm. “For your future, what do you want for your future?”

“I want to fall in _love_.” Donghyuck side, face still half creased and pouting, “I want to find someone I love and spend my life with them. I want to grow old knowing that I was happy. I don’t want to be the same fucking thing that everyone else is. Most of all, I just want to be happy.” 

“Are you happy now?” Mark asked and Donghyuck couldn’t help but think about how his tone was far too light for a question so heavy. 

“I am sometimes.” Donghyuck admitted, rolling onto his side to stare at the android. 

“What times make you happy?” Mark’s head tilted in the way the showed his interest in recording more data. Data, data, _data_. That was all everything was to Mark, but Donghyuck couldn’t help but think that’s all anything was to anybody. Knowing Mark had changed the way Donghyuck perceived a lot of things in life and he wasn’t sure if it was a positive thing or not. 

“When I’m in the garden, when I’m alone, when I’m reading,” Donghyuck paused, looking to the ground, before admitting, “When I’m with you.”

For some reason that confession felt far too personal, far too deep, for what it meant. Donghyuck wasn’t sure why it hung in the air and weighed down the atmosphere but it did. There was a long moment before Mark replied, “Oh, I see.” 

“Hey, Haechan?” Mark asked, the week before Donghyuck’s nineteenth birthday. Mark had found Donghyuck outside, lounging in the sun. Donghyuck had been spending more time apart from Mark since the fight he had had with his mother. There was a nagging fear that she would try and take Mark away if she thought they were getting too close. Donghyuck wasn’t ready to live without Mark, despite the robot being replaceable. 

“Yeah?” Donghyuck answered from his perch on the sun lounger he had sprawled across rather than lying on the grass and soil as normal. He was _trying_ to be more of an adult. 

“It’s almost time I go in for my four-year upgrade,” Mark said as he approached the chair, looming over Donghyuck. “If I don’t get my annual maintenance, I will begin to become faulty and laggy and will eventually quit working as the updates to my software will no longer be compatible with the technology I’m made of.” 

Donghyuck nodded, glancing up at him through his sunglasses. Unlike Mark, Donghyuck needed eye protection from the sun, the light damaging to his eyes. “I’ll get that sorted.” 

Mark smiled widely, nodding, “Thank you, Haechan.” 

“Hey, Mark?” Donghyuck asked as the android turned to leave. Mark stopped, turning his attention back to Donghyuck and tilting his head as the other mulled his words over. “You won’t, y’know, lose any of your memories or data right?” 

Mark laughed lightly, chime-y and bright like the sound of the water fountain in the summer. “If you’re asking if they will reset my AI chip, the answer is no. My chip will be transplanted into either a new body or my current body will just be updated. This does mean I will be gone for several days to a week while this process occurs.”

Donghyuck read between the lines in a way he probably shouldn’t have. _Will you be okay with me being gone?_ Donghyuck looked away, closing his eyes despite his sunglasses obscuring his eyes already, “Whatever it takes for you to get updated, I guess.” 

The only thing Donghyuck had requested from his parents for his nineteenth birthday was that Mark get upgraded. His mother begrudgingly agreed with a dismissive wave from his father, under the conditions that Donghyuck at least _meet_ some of the potential spouses. Donghyuck, in the same tone his mother had used, agreed. Mark departed in his charging tube the day after his birthday and Donghyuck was left awkwardly alone for the first time since he was fifteen. 

It was bizarre being completely alone. Donghyuck had spent so many years entirely alone, yet after Mark’s arrival he had always had a companion, always had a shadow. He found himself turning often to speak to a body that _wasn’t_ next to him, a quip or a thought or an unnecessary question clinging to the tip of his tongue where it died when the space next to him was found empty. 

Donghyuck was finding that the lack of company was making his chest ache, similar to indigestion. He couldn’t wait for the end of the week. 

The day after Mark left was the day the first suitor came by to visit. She was nice, beautiful in an average way, with silky black hair and doey green eyes and skin many shades deeper than Donghyuck’s. She was the daughter of his father's coworker’s friend who owned a similar business to the one his mother owned. _It would be a great business relationship, an empire_ , his mother had whispered to him upon their arrival. Still, by the time the two were sitting outside on the patio together where Mark often watched Donghyuck drink tea and vent about the world, Donghyuck was unable to feel another but a sympathetic politeness. 

“So, Katrina-” Donghyuck started only to be interrupted.

“Kat,” She said quickly, “Call me Kat.” She wasn’t impolite and she wasn’t rude, in fact, given any other circumstance Donghyuck could see them being friends. It was just that currently Donghyuck was uncomfortable, lonely, and _frustrated_ , so everything pulled at his already frayed nerves. 

Donghyuck’s tone was unintentionally biting when he replied, “So, Kat, what do you do for fun?” 

“Fun?” She asked, tone lilting slightly. She sat too straight, as though she were holding herself tightly to maintain an image that Donghyuck wasn’t seeing. When he nodded quickly, she shrugged, slim shoulders exposed from the straps of her baby pink sundress. “I don’t do many fun things. I spend a lot of time working with my mom and going into work with her. My mother stays at home and I guess the fun things I learned from her- she taught me how to sew and accounting. What about you?”

“I play a lot of video games and read old news articles a lot,” Donghyuck could see the disinterest hiding behind an expression that tried its hardest to be friendly. She didn’t want to be here any more than he did, “I also spend a lot of time in the garden.” 

She made an excited noise, one that perked her up quickly, “Yes! Your garden! It’s lovely, tell me about it.” 

Donghyuck smiled, the first genuine expression since Mark had left, and found excitement curling in his chest, “It’s my favorite place. There’s several beautiful spots where I just love spending time. A couple of those spots I even built little fairy houses- they’re called fairy houses because way back when people used to believe in these little magical people with wings called fairies and the houses were supposed to attract them! Those are my favorites, but I also really like the fountain, it’s where I find myself whenever I just want a lazy day and-” Donghyuck stopped, as he realized her expression had faded slightly, her interesting dimming. Donghyuck felt himself deflate and the absence of Mark was suddenly extremely noticeable, “And you don’t care.” 

Immediately, her expression morphed into that of an apologetic wince as her hands dropped from the table and into her lap, “I’m sorry,” She said quickly and Donghyuck could tell she was being honest, “I thought your garden was something like a small farm.”

“Oh, I mean,” Donghyuck paused, before offering shyly, “We have some berry patches and a small orchard.” 

“It’s not, like,” She looked around awkwardly, seeming to mull her words momentarily, “Like, a _farm_.”

“You mean do I sell the things I grow?” Donghyuck finally said, filling in the gaps. She flinched before looking back to him. He sighed all the air from his lungs, his body physically deflating as he did so and shook his head, “No, I don’t. I don’t run a business. I’m not an entrepreneur. I’m just hanging out in my garden, enjoying my time.” 

The conversation died from there until dinner, the small talk quick and awkward. When she left, Donghyuck bid her a polite, but arm’s length farewell. 

The rest of the week went similarly, where Donghyuck met several potential spouses but all of them crushing his already fragile social bubble easily. Donghyuck hadn’t realized how much he valued the outlet that Mark provided, the android listening to everything he said with undivided interest. Donghyuck knew, reasonably, that that was what the androids duty was, knew that his purpose was to provide Donghyuck with the perfect companion. Donghyuck just hadn’t expected to grow as attached as he had, hadn’t realized exactly _how_ reliant on the android he was for company. 

It was noticeable in the small things. The moments where Donghyuck felt the ache of loneliness as his fathers eyes were unfocused and his mothers gazed just past his shoulder and normally he would find his way back to Mark, seeking validation that he was visible, that he hadn’t suddenly turned into a cloud of dispersed particles, that he was _there_. It was also blaringly obvious in the times where Donghyuck began a sentence, one with unnecessary questions or thoughts, and the other party stared at him like his face had melted. It left him counting the days, the hours, the minutes, until Mark got back. Donghyuck thought perhaps he could survive a marriage if he were able to keep his android.

The first thing Donghyuck noticed about Mark was that he looked slightly _different_. His hair was no longer blonde, instead a deep brown that looked black in the shadows of the same charging tube he had been delivered in four years ago. It wasn’t just his hair, though; the hollows of his cheeks were deeper, the width of his shoulders wider, and muscles filling out the same silvery grey suit from years ago. He looked older, not by much, but _enough_. 

The delivery people had set him in the foyer underneath the chandelier, the same way they had four years ago. 

His mother had given him a begrudging and quiet _There’s your robot_ , before she had disappeared to leave her son with his renewed yet old toy. 

The only difference from then to now, was Donghyuck was far more enthusiastic about wheeling the tube outside and into a sunny place. He laid in the grass again, sprawled out across the faux earth as he and the batteries absorbed the sun. His shorts were riding up his thighs, slightly paler skin eating up the warmth as he allowed himself to be engulfed in the familiar scent of grass and dirt and the faint wetness leftover from the sprinklers that morning. 

It took several hours, Donghyuck glancing every so often at the flashing light, before the battery was completely charged. Donghyuck had moved quickly, flinging himself upwards clumsily and grabbing the handle with damp palms. Donghyuck had never felt such a strong deja vu as he did then, standing beneath the robot, looking up at him through thick eyelashes. Mark remained stoic, sleeping. He smelled unusually sterile, like a toy pulled from packaging but lacking the distinctly plastic undertones. Donghyuck was struck with an immediate pang of nostalgia, the scent exactly as it had been years ago.

Donghyuck looked up once again, eyes having fallen to the androids chest, to the small patch on his breast with Neo Tech’s logo. He was once again met with dark eyes that glittered under lights that didn’t exist. Mark looked as he had last week, but so different all the same. Donghyuck took several steps back, watching the android move smoothly down from the container. 

“Mark,” Donghyuck wheezed, chest deflating. He felt as though he could finally breathe under the pressure of his parents and suitors and the strangeness of both, “How do you feel? I mean, feel for a robot?” 

Mark’s head tilted to the side, face plain as his hair shifted, lacking the distinct smile he usually carried when addressing Donghyuck. “Hello, I am Android MRUK-V8299. How can I help you today?” 

“Mark?” Donghyuck felt his shoulders drooping, his muscles turning to beaten cream. The relief of his return was overshadowed by a horrible wave of something Donghyuck had never felt before; the closest he could recall was how his chest would ache when his mother would address him in the mornings without title or emotion, except now the feeling swallowed him whole and left his fingertips numb. “Mark, don’t you remember me?” 

“I am sorry,” Mark said flatly, head still cocked as he studied the human, “Oh, you are Donghyuck Lee.” 

Donghyuck felt like sobbing. Mark hadn’t called him by his name since he coined the nickname Haechan. It felt foreign, unusual, _impersonal_. He had been treated as a stranger for the past week by his parents and random guests forced into his bubble and the _one_ moment he had to look forward to before returning to meeting suitors was Mark returning and _now_ \- Mark didn’t know him. 

Donghyuck didn’t know when he had started crying but he supposed the stress had finally caught up to him, shoulders quaking as the tears creased tracks down his face. “Why don’t you remember me? You said you would.” His voice cracked embarrassingly on the last word, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. Afterall, Mark was an android and had no emotions and lived only to serve Donghyuck- Mark couldn’t mock him even if he wanted to. 

Donghyuck was still staring at Mark’s blank expression when the android surprised him; his face split suddenly, lips pulling back and eyes creasing as he beamed with a smile Donghyuck had never seen before. Mark was _smiling_ , but it was _different_ than before. “I’m just joking, Haechan. Did you miss me?”

“What the fuck?” Donghyuck asked, stepping forward to shove the android, ignoring the way the robot gave against the force abnormally, taking a step back to balance himself while Donghyuck scrubbed his face of tears. “Why would you play with me like that?” 

Mark seemed full of unexpected actions today, his mouth opening and releasing a light _giggle_ before righting himself again and blinking a few times. “It was a joke!” 

“You don’t joke.” Donghyuck said plainly, sniffling as he gathered up his pride. 

“I do now.” 

Something was different about Mark. Donghyuck was noticing it in the small things, the things that felt warmer than they used to. Mark had always listened to Donghyuck passively as he vented, watching from Donghyuck’s desk chair that had just become Mark’s home base, but nowadays he added input, frowns creasing his silicon skin and tone slightly more harsh as he chastised Donghyuck’s parents. Mark had always listened to Donghyuck talk, listened to every word he spoke, but now Mark actively inserted opinions that Donghyuck hadn’t voiced. Mark also had always spent time with Donghyuck in the garden, trailing him as he meandered through the imported life, but he had begun _asking_ to spend time out there with Donghyuck. 

It was strange, Donghyuck thought, but it probably had to do with his upgrade. Donghyuck assumed that whatever they had upgraded had just become more innately humanlike, specifically the _companion_ model that Mark was. 

Still, it made Donghyuck nervous. 

Now, several weeks after Mark’s upgrades, the two were lying by the fountain. One of Mark’s hand was trailing through the water quietly, the soft sound of the water slipping down the stacked spheres in the center was a background noise to fill in the distinct lack of natural life. Mark was laying on his stomach again, head propped up on his free palm, eyes staring at the water that glittered nearly just as brightly as his irises in the sunlight. Mark’s hair glowed slightly golden in the afternoon sun, the lighting enunciating the honey color of his skin and the curvature of his cheeks and back and legs. Donghyuck was in shorts again, a long tee shirt brushing his thighs, having rarely dressed in anything else. Life on the third moon was _hot_ , seasons being mimicked frailily and the sun always swallowing the small man-made space rock. _An eternally tropical planet_ , Donghyuck had remembered reading in one old article that had promoted the creation of the different moons. 

Donghyuck was propped against the fountain lip, thighs being tickled by the soft grass as he read another article, this one about the extinction of the fruit called _bananas_. Since Mark’s upgrade, Donghyuck had met several other potential suitors, all of them being the exact opposite of everything Donghyuck had wanted in a partner. 

After the last partner, Mark had interrupted Donghyuck’s final rant, expression abnormally _curious_ as he inquired: _then what are you looking for?_

Donghyuck hadn’t known why the question had hit him like a sack of bricks, but it left him weak-kneed and seated on the bed. Mark looked as though he was still waiting on an answer, so Donghyuck gave him one, eyes cast to the carpet where Mark often sat. _Someone I can talk to. Someone who understands me. Someone who I can just be with, without feeling like I have to be this-this-this_ non-person _. Someone who I can just live with as Donghyuck._

_What about someone you can live with as Haechan?_

Donghyuck still hadn’t known what Mark meant by that, suddenly feeling like the roles were reversed and he was needing to ask a human for more clarification as his algorithms adapted. That was about two weeks ago. Donghyuck had stopped seeing suitors after that, refusing his parents entirely. _Later_ , he promised, _I’ll find a spouse later._ Later wouldn’t come, though, not if Donghyuck could help it.

“Hey, Haechan?” Mark’s voice was soft, eyes still lingering on the shifting waters. 

“Yeah?” Donghyuck said, looking up from the hologram of the article emitting from his watch, “What’s up?”

“What does happiness feel like?” Mark had been asking him these types of questions a lot lately. He asked about feelings, about sensations, about _dreams_. Donghyuck wasn’t sure just what this new upgrade had done, but Mark returned far less of an android than he had left. 

“It’s warm,” Donghyuck said after a minute, staring straight ahead. He was studying one of the rose bushes across from the fountain, vibrant yellow blooms standing out amongst the greenery. “It kind of happens in your chest and spreads out. Sometimes it tingles, sometimes it’s just pure warmth. For me, it makes me want to laugh or smile. It also just feels _good_.”

Mark hummed, his head shifting to rest on his arm as he stared at Donghyuck. Donghyuck glanced at him, looked away, then looked back. It wasn’t normal, the way Mark was staring at him. Donghyuck didn’t feel like he was being analyzed, categorized as data. He felt like he was being _admired_ and it made his face hotter than the weather and he nervously picked at the neckline of his shirt. “It’s why you like the color yellow, right?” 

Donghyuck nodded, “Yeah, yellow is very happy feeling.”

“Oh, I see,” Mark said simply, turning his attention back to the water, “I think I like the color yellow, too. Y’know, the water is softer than I thought it would be.” 

Something Donghyuck had learned about Mark was that he had a beautiful smile. When he laughed his eyebrows shot into his hairline, nose scrunching with small creases, body quaking as he clapped his hands lightly. He laughed from his chest and his throat, the sound sometimes too high, sometimes too deep, but always chest-tingling. He smiled softly sometimes, entirely made of petals and water. Sometimes he smiled crudely, the joke he told ridiculous and his smile saying such. Donghyuck had known him for over four years and he had never seen Mark’s smile look as it did nowadays. 

Donghyuck really didn’t know what happened during his upgrade, but he found himself looking at the ground far more than he looked at Mark now. 

It took two months before Donghyuck finally inquired about the changes. They were sitting under an oak tree in one of the circular subsections of the maze, the bench underneath it metal but still cool from the shade. Mark had his head resting in Donghyuck’s lap, his eyes closed as Donghyuck absentmindedly played with the brown strands of unfamiliar hair. 

They spent more time like this nowadays, Mark initiating more physical contact. Donghyuck didn’t mind seeing as he was a touch-starved recluse that avoided all people within arms length. Still, it was an odd thing for the android after so many years of only ever touching Donghyuck when it came to things like helping him with sunscreen, cutting his hair, fixing a stuck zipper, and so on. 

“Hey, Mark?” Donghyuck said carefully, trapezing around the topic. He wasn’t sure how to broach such a alien conversation, but he had never had any problems talking to Mark before. Mark was his confidant, his only friend other than the people he chatted with sporadically online. Mark knew everything about him. 

“Yes, Haechan?” Mark said, eyes fluttering, but not opening. He looked serene like this, legs hanging over the arm of the bench. He had no blood to worry about constricting, the position far more comfortable for him than it would be Donghyuck. 

“You’ve been different,” Donghyuck said slowly, fingers still playing with his syntheticly soft brown hair, “Why is that?” 

Mark hummed, a habit he had had the entire time he had known Donghyuck. It used to sound similar to a computer as it whirred, the sound of a machine processing requests. Now, it sounded closer to that of a pondering man and Donghyuck wasn’t sure how that had changed. “You mean after my upgrade?” Donghyuck nodded in response, verbalization not coming to him. Mark seemed to accept that without having to look at him. “To be honest, Haechan, I’ve noticed it, too.” 

Donghyuck wasn’t surprised at that, nodding again slowly, “What’s different? Did they give you new software or something? A new update?”

Mark chuckled, the sound coming from his throat and through his nose before he shook his head. “No, no. They gave me an upgraded body, adjusted my physical frame and changed my hair color. They fixed some software bugs that had occurred, like the fact that I couldn’t count past sixteen billion- and no, I don’t know _why_ that’s important either, before you ask.” Donghyuck snapped his lips shut, the question falling back into his mouth, as Mark grinned. “I’ve run diagnostics several times since coming back and I haven’t been able to figure out exactly _what_ happened. According to my reports everythings fine, except everything is just _different_. I’m classified under the Model: Realistic Upgraded Kind and I’ve read the definition and manual several times now and still have no answers. Nothing should have changed except my physical appearance and whatever small changes they could fix in my software.”

“So,” Donghyuck said slowly, mind still processing everything, “You’re telling me that everything is fine?” 

Mark shrugged, eyes finally opening to stare up at Donghyuck. “What I’m telling you is something changed that I can’t _detect_. Something I can’t _fix_. I’m assuming it’s got to do with my AI chip.”

“Your AI chip?” Donghyuck repeated, fingers scratching at Mark’s scalp again. 

“Yeah, I think it was damaged, so to speak. I shouldn’t be processing information like I do. I shouldn’t be _thinking_.” Mark took a long pause and his gaze on Donghyuck felt as though his hands were tracing his form to memory and it made Donghyuck’s skin prickle. “I shouldn’t be _feeling_.”

Donghyuck blinked several times, squishing his eyelashes to his cheeks roughly before opening them again, fingers knotted in Mark’s hair. “What do you mean _feeling_?”

“I mean,” Mark’s voice was strained, looking unusually distressed, “I can _feel_ things. Like, it’s not just my receptors picking up the fact that something touched me, but that I can _feel_ the sensation of something touching me. It’s also the fact that I can feel what you’ve described as the correct response to emotions in my physical form.”

“What?” Donghyuck said dumbly after a long moment. 

Mark smiled softly, looking unbothered by Donghyuck’s confusion. “Haechan, I can _feel_ emotions.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! if you have any questions, leave them down below so i can be sure to cover everything in the next chapter. Hopefully the next chapter won't take me too long to write because it's where the cute fluff and the discussions of morality happen and also Mark becomes Mark and not just android-Mark and i'm very excited to write that :,) 
> 
> anyways, stay safe<3<3<3


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